Disclaimer: I don't own bully, holms.

Author's Note: I had a bad day today, but at least I finished this chapter. (so what if it sorta got thrown together by the end?) In Seven, I plan to have Petey and Gary. I'm a little scared though; Gary is one of the most amazing characters ever and I'm afraid to make him completely out of character. (at least there's no way I could screw him up any more than I did the greasers' lingo)

EvilChick101: Aw thanks! Your review cheered me up a little.

A Boy Named Troy

Chapter Six

Gord had now slept in the prep room owned by Jimmy for eight nights, only twice being accompanied by him. One could not really say that the brunette had been living the past week. He remained wrapped up in ripped pale green blanket, wearing only a white undershirt and red polka dotted boxers (both Aquaberry brand of course), until noon every day. Only for a few minutes earlier in the morning would he be conscious, when Jimmy stopped by to bring Troy to his first class. For being someone with such freezing feet, he tended to the brat like a father.

After standing up for the first time each day with wobbly feet, Gord would stroll aimlessly through the town that would become prep infested as soon as Bullworth's final bell rang. All of them, except an occasional lone Bif, were giving him the cold shoulder. Before they could get to him though, he crawled (metaphorically of course) back to the dim disaster of a room in which he was squandering his young life away. He'd sit at the bar, stare at the filth that had never been cleared away, fold and refold the few of his designer clothes that Jimmy was willing to carry over for him, or just simply piss and moan about the horrid mistake he made. His whole life, everything he loved and knew, thrown to the gutters just for one comment. And for what? A boyfriend who would not even stand up to the title? A boyfriend who spent all of his free time with a child who deeply hated Gord or a silly little friend students called head boy? "Where is Jimmy in my time of need?" It was still morning. Gord had his whole body and face covered with the blanket as he griped loudly.

"I'm right here numb-nuts." Jimmy yawned out. Hoisting himself onto his knees, the prep peeked through a whole in the blanket that laid in his face. It was true! There on the dusty floor, sitting on his brilliantly enticing ass, was the great Hopkins himself. "And you're not in a time of need."

"Jimmy!" All pessimistic thoughts miraculously spilled from his mind. He sprung from the blanket and bed to climb into his boyfriends arms. "What on Earth are you doing down there?"

"You pushed me off the bed in the middle of the night." he grumbled. Absentmindedly, Jimmy ran an open hand up and down Gord's clothed back. "You see, this is why I can't stay with you during the week. I'd never get a decent hour of sleep."

"Mm, I'm sorry." The prep purred, tucking his head under his boyfriend's chin. With nails that were beginning to grow as ragged as a commoners, he traced circles on Jimmy's chest.

James cleared his throat. "Are you sure you don't wanna come with today?"

"What?" The circles lowered to his stomach and the bully flinched. Most would never know that their great, strong, fearless king was ticklish.

"Earlier-" Again he lurched forward. "This week, I asked if you wanted to go with me and Pete to Blue Skies."

The richie's hand paused. "You did?"

"Yeah, you said you didn't feel like it." Maybe, while wallowing, Gord had made-up his abandonment. The whole week, other than the big picture, was rather hazy.

"Oh. Well no thanks."

"I get it." Kowalski seemed to be the only student around who was overjoyed to visit the psycho. Fingers began to slowly travel even further down. Startled, Jimmy leapt a little. "Whoa," he murmured. "The kid's right over there." He jerked his head backwards and, sure enough, the brat was eating cereal at the bar.

"Are you planning on going to school ever again?" Jimmy asked after the two teens joined the child for breakfast. Gord picked at rainbow sugary pieces in his bowl. It was strange, his stomach was screaming as if he had not had a bite to eat in days, but he couldn't seem to lift the spoon up to his lips. "Or eating?" Troy jumped down from one of the mismatched barstools with his empty bowl and toddled to the serving side of the bar. He rinsed out the bowl in the small sink. "Shopping? Bathing? Living?"

Gord shook his head. "What are you talking about? I shower every single day, no matter how I feel."

"Riiight…"

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

Jimmy shrugged. "I dunno. You just haven't been very… Gord lately." The prep knitted his eyebrows together in confusion. "Go take a look in the bathroom mirror."

Carefully sliding down from his seat, Gord shakily made his way into the restroom and flicked on the light. At first he was blinded. From shiny gold wallpaper to maroon specks in the floor tiling, the place shone like a bathroom one might find in an upscale gentleman's club. When the his eyes finally cleared, he was appalled at what he found staring back at him through the blurry mirror. "My lord!" He loudly gasped. His normally vibrant, neat hair was matted nearly as badly as the brat's. And from the look of it, it probably no longer smelled like his delicious strawberry shampoo. Also, his face was not washed, there were smudges on his nose, and his normally trimmed brows were growing wild. "I see what you mean, James."

It took over an hour of washing and preening until Gord was mildly satisfied. Forgetting a top when he had earlier gone back into the main room to grab a change of clothes, he went without a shirt, something he was quite comfortable doing. Already feeling a little better, he animatedly noted, "Jimmy we have got to do something about this filth!" Rubbish was littered everywhere on the floor and cobwebs hid in both reachable and unreachable nooks. The card table was folded up and tucked against the wall along with the chairs to make room for Troy's new bed that Jimmy had gotten him. In reality, it was really just a twin sized mattress, but the kid made it his by scattering a few shirts and pants and quilts on it. There was also a small color television in that area that he could somewhat remember picking up with some pocket change.

"Whatever you say." Jimmy had changed into a long tee-shirt boasting a band that Gord had never heard of, a dark pair of baggy jeans, and a grey wool cap with a thin black stripe winding around it. "Oh yeah, would you mind hanging out with the kid today? I don't think he's ready to meet Gary yet." His chuckled contained a hint of nervousness.

"Sure." he half heartedly agreed, distracted by searching through the armoire for a shirt that he felt like pulling on.

A soft wrapping sounded from the outside of the door. This time the boy shyly waited for Jimmy to let him enter, versus just barging in. Gord, still rummaging in the wardrobe, was blocked from sight by the open door. Troy scampered up next to Jimmy, welcoming Kowalski with a dorky grin. "Hey buddy!" The boy who always dressed in a light shade of pink happily greeted the brat, even crouching down to his height and ruffling his yellow hair. Gord scoffed. The kid liked everyone but him it seemed. The noise attracted the head boy's attention who peeked around the door only to quickly look down and away. A slight blush worked his way onto lightly tanned cheeks. "Oh, uh hey Gord. Are you ever fully dressed?" he laughed awkwardly.

"You seemed quite flustered." This made the boy even more uncomfortable.

"Just give me a minute, I gotta grab something." Jimmy spoke up, kicking around a few items on the floor. "And Gord, be nice." The prep childishly stuck out his tongue.

Pete would not look at him until he carefully tugged on a lavender short sleeved shirt with a collar. "You haven't been to classes lately; are you sick?" His gaze rose, but he never emerged from the entryway.

"One could say something along those lines."

"Oh." It seemed an eternity until Jimmy found what he was searching for and slipped it into his back pocket.

"Okay." The king gestured towards the door to Pete who quickly left with a half wave. Gord approached his boyfriend and quickly placed a peck on his cheek, like a wife from a fifties based sitcom. It was all he figured he'd be allowed to do in front of Troy. The shorter teen nodded and started to leave.

"A slingshot?" Gord raised an eyebrow, identifying the object lodged in the back pocket.

"Can never be too careful." The prep smiled at that and waved along with Troy. "You two… don't kill each other."

Silence ensued as the two were left alone together in the room that lightly smelled of lake water. Neither moved a step from their now seemingly random placements. As Gord breathed in, he noticed that the neighbor body of water was not the only thing adding to the musky stench of the room. He stole another wary whiff, eyes locking down on the probable culprit. "That shirt looks familiar." he commented, staring at the grey tee with a navy Bullworth stamp on the front Troy was wearing. The brat shrugged. "When was the last time you wore it?"

Another shoulder movement upward came before an apathetic reply. "Yesterday."

Gord grimaced. "How disgusting." he thought, pushing any realization of his own recent hygiene habits out of his head. Was there not a single clean item of clothing that he could wear? There was a whole pile of shirts on his bed. What was wrong with those? Glancing down, Gord began to take a closer look at the articles of clothing. There were only three shirts total: a school sweater vest, a white dress shirt to be worn under the previous item, and a long-sleeved azure sweater. No where else did he have any clothes hidden away he thought, so did that mean the kid only had a standard uniform, gym uniform, and the outfit he wore on his first day? From the sound of things, Troy did not start from the beginning of the school year, but he must have been the last four or five weeks at least. Did that mean he had been living in the same dirty things that long? It took everything in him not to gasp aloud at the thought. "Go get cleaned up." he snapped, not wanting to embarrass the kid by letting him know what he had realized.

"Why?"

"Unlike that mess of a so-called capitalist, Bif, I will not be seen in public with you covered in filth."

"You're taking me somewhere?" Wow, the child was a regular Chatty McGee today.

The prep took a step towards the kid to usher him towards the bathroom. "You will be assisting me in what I do best: shopping."

Without much thinking, Gord originally planned on whisking the brat away to his favorite place on Earth (besides Jimmy's strong arms), Aquaberry. As soon as they had started down the wooden steps they saw a group of preps standing around in the sand, and Gord remembered that he would no longer be welcomed there. He sighed. Making his new life was going to be the toughest thing he had ever done in his luxurious life. The only other clothing store that came to his mind was a thrift one that he had wandered into once while carelessly stalking Hopkins. Punches had been thrown in the end, so he knew it was somewhere in greaser territory, but he was not entirely sure where. How hard could it be to find though?

"Are we lost?" Troy timidly spoke up after they had cautiously circled the same block for the third time. Gord had been able to guide them into New Coventry by crossing in front of their school, but he was unable to make any recollections about where anything was located there. At least they had not run into a single grease ball. Plenty of homeless people, but no greasers. They must have all been applying gel to one another's hair or what ever they did Saturday afternoons.

"I will have you know that I never become lost. I just misplace my sense of direction every now and then." he informed, pulling on airs. It was an attempt to hide the fact that he was somewhat terrified to be stranded in the bad neighborhood. His eyes nervously glimpsed around. There was a Yum Yum Market store a small ways down the street they were currently stopped on. He supposed that he could ask for directions in there, but doubted that he would receive a good response, based on his clothing. Troy would fit in though.

"Oh where is he?" Gord fretted, manically pacing back and forth across the street from the store that he had foolishly sent his responsibility into alone. What if someone snatched the boy? Or what if they recognized that he was sent in the by a much despised preppie? Troy had been in there for over seven minutes according to his expensive watch. So consumed with worry, Gord did not even notice the leather jacket wearing teen on a bike stop and watch him. It wasn't until jeerful laughter filled the air that he paled and paused.

"'Ey there Mockingbird." Upon hearing the personal greeting, some of the color in Gord's face reappeared. "What's got you so worked up?"

He turned to face the greaser. "Vance! I am just so relieved to see you!" Flooding with gratuity, Gord closed the short distance between them and actually threw his arms around his friend.

Vance awkwardly tried to balance his bike between his legs and, at the same time, pat the Aquaberry sweater adorned back. "Jeeze, ya haven't been this excited to see me since that time I covered ya for stalkin' Hopkins." To keep from falling, he was forced to remove the clinging prep. "What's goin' on?"

"My uh friend went in there and I have not seen him since!" Gord fervently pointed towards the convenience store. He pouted slightly when the auburn haired guy chuckled at him.

"What's the big deal? Jus go in there!"

"I can't do that!"

"You 'fraid or something?" Vance let one of his gorgeous smiles shine brightly on his face. "C'mon I'll protect you." With that he swung one leg over the other side of his bicycle so that he was no longer straddling it and took hold of Gord's thin wrist. He easily pulled both over to the store.

It turns out that the brat had just become distracted with a naughty magazine and, to Gord's dismay, Vance was already familiar with the kid. ("'Ey Troy! Wha's up buddy boy?") At least the greaser offered to escort them to the thrift store, even volunteering to join them inside. Gord and Troy waited very close by the door until Vance came in after chaining up his bicycle.

"Why don't you run along and pick out a few new attires? I hardly think that I will find anything up to my tastes in this establishment." Gord immediately ordered Troy once the three of them were back together again.

The brat seemed unsure whether or not it was a good idea for him to comply, so Vance greased the wheels a tad. "Go pick out whatever ya want. Mockingbird's loaded." This convinced the kid to reluctantly go search the racks of used clothing, while also attracting the attention of a man behind the register. He soon stepped out and helped Troy increase the prep's tab.

"Ya haven't been around lately, at classes an' all. You okay?" The greaser asked with some genuine concern once they were alone inside the dilapidated store. He leaned against a bare space on a wall, propping up one black leather-booted foot behind him. As always, he wore the only greaser trademark jacket that he owned. Each time Gord saw his friend, there would be a new scuff or repair on it.

"Honestly? My life is in shambles right now?"

The guy always put up with the dramatic prep's problems with patience usually unseen in a man his age. "Aw, what happened?"

Just as he had done with Jimmy, Gord went through nearly the whole conversation he shared with his leaders, this time wrapping up his story with complaints about his living arrangements and how his ex-group was treating him.

"Sounds rough. I always knew those friends o' yours were no good. No offense or nothin'."

"None taken."

"So you and the kid are getting close then, huh?"

"Not as much as one would think. I have a feeling that Troy hates me though."

A look of disbelief spread across Vance's face. "Ya sure 'bout that? He's shy, but he seems to like you jus fine. From the little I've seen that is."

"Really?" Gord considered what the greaser said. He had been in a haze most of the time that he spent with the little brat. Then he remembered what the kid first said to him. "No, Troy even told me that he does not like me." He sighed. "I guess I haven't given him much of a chance though. He reminds me too much of someone else."

"Yeah, kinda jogs my mind too."

After Troy had moved on to choosing pants, from what Gord could tell, Vance changed the subject. "So has he been treatin' you good?" For some reason, a slight scowl dashed across his lips.

"James?" The greaser just slowly nodded. "Of course he has been treating me well. I'm just afraid that I will hold him back."

"Mockingbird, you're better than you realize." Well that was an odd thing for him to say; Gord had always been told that he thought quite highly of himself. Another strange comment was on it's way. "If it weren't for the king of campus, would you still be hangin' with me?"

"What on Earth are you talking about?" Gord laughed softly. "You were the one who was not interested in any kind of commitment."

"Let's say I'm not talkin' 'bout commitment, just what we had. Would we still be messin' around if Hopkins hadn't caught yer eye?" Gord giggled again, vaguely aware that Troy was approaching them with a stack of clothing. "What? Ain't I a good kissa'?"

The kid reached them. He held three pairs of jeans and approximately five tops. "Which ones can I keep?" Troy asked with a little shame.

"Why don't I just purchase all of them for you?" The brat started to shake his head, but Gord continued, wanting to impress his old friend with benefits. "It will be my way of apologizing for not being very friendly." All three of them grinned slightly, Troy's being the smallest. Hey, at least it was a smile. "Now let's see what you picked out."

Right on top of the pile was a baggy, white, collared tee-shirt. Gord gritted his perfectly aligned teeth. Of course it was.